Inside Creedmoor State Hospital’s Building 25

The first glimpse of Building 25’s fourth floor from the central stairwell. That’s not gravel.

In Queens Village, mere inches of brick and mortar separate the world we know from one of the strangest places in the city. Once a haven for New York’s cast-out mentally ill, Creedmoor Psychiatric Center’s Building 25 has undergone something of a transformation over its 40 years of neglect.

Creedmoor was founded in 1912 as the Farm Colony of Brooklyn State Hospital, one of hundreds of similar psychiatric wards established at the turn of the century to house and rehabilitate those who were ill equipped to function on their own. Rejected by mainstream society, hundreds of thousands of mentally disturbed individuals, many afflicted with psychosis and schizophrenia, were transferred from urban centers across the country to outlying pastoral areas where fresh air, closeness to nature, and the healing power of work was thought to be their best bet for rehabilitation.

A few articles of clothing were left behind.

As the 20th century progressed, asylums across the country became overrun with patients, and many institutions became desperately understaffed and dangerously underfunded. Living conditions at some psychiatric wards grew dire—patient abuse and neglect was not uncommon. Creedmoor State Hospital was habitually under scrutiny during this period, beginning in the 1940s with an outbreak of dysentery that resulted from unsanitary living conditions in the wards.

The hospital had spiraled completely out of control by 1974 when the state ordered an inquiry into an outbreak of crime on the Creedmoor campus. Within 20 months, three rapes were reported, 22 assaults, 52 fires, 130 burglaries, six instances of suicide, a shooting, a riot, and an attempted murder, prompting an investigation into all downstate mental hospitals. As late as 1984, the violent ward of Creedmoor Psychiatric Center was rocked with scandal following the death of a patient, who had been struck in the throat by a staff member while restrained in a straitjacket.

In the late 20th Century, the development of antipsychotic medications and new standards of treatment for the mentally ill accelerated a trend toward deinstitutionalization. A series of dramatic budget cuts and dwindling patient populations led to the closing of farm colonies across the United States, and a marked decline at Creedmoor. The campus continues to operate today, housing only a few hundred patients and providing outpatient services, leaving its turbulent past behind. Many of the buildings have been sold off to new tenants. Others, like Building 25, lie fallow.

The building was an active ward until some time in the 1970s, and retains many mementos from its days as a residence and treatment center for the mentally ill. With peeling paint, dusty furniture, and dark corridors, the lower floors are typical of a long-abandoned hospital, but upstairs, the effect of time has taken a grotesque turn.

The smell alone is enough to drive anyone to the verge of madness, but the visual is even more appalling. For 40 years, generations of pigeons have defecated on the fourth floor of Building 25, far removed from their dim-witted dealings with the human world, assembling a monument all their own. Guano accumulates in grey mounds under popular roosts, with the tallest columns reaching several feet in height. Like the myriad formations of a cavern, Buiding 25’s guano stalagmites are a work in progress—pigeons roost at every turn, and they’re awfully dubious of outsiders. Violent outbursts of flight punctuate an otherworldly soundscape of low, rumbling coos. The filth acts as an acoustic insulator, making every movement impossibly close.

These dropping formations formed under the pipes of a sprinkler system the birds frequented. (Prints Available)

Two levels down and a world away from the top floor, a kitchen is filled with years’ worth of garbage intersected by narrow pathways. A living room, kept relatively tidy, features a sitting area with an array of chairs, including a homemade toilet. Loosely organized objects litter every surface—toiletries, clothing, hundreds of dead D batteries. Some of the belongings looked as if they hadn’t been touched for decades, but a newspaper dated to only a few weeks before confirmed my suspicion that someone was still living here.

I found him snoozing peacefully in a light-filled dayroom, surrounded by a series of patient murals. Once painted over, images of faraway lands, country gardens, and the Holy Mother are coming to light again as time peels back the layers. The image was surprising, unforgettably human, and imprudent to photograph. Declining to introduce myself, I passed once more through the dark, decaying halls of Building 25, leaving its charms, horrors, and mysteries for the birds. Back on solid ground, its impression wouldn’t fade for months—Building 25 has a way of recurring in dreams…

Overgrowth covered most of the windows, casting green light over much of the interior.

Furniture stacked in a cafeteria on Building 25’s third floor.

These chairs are popular with urban explorers, one went as far as covering the upholstery with fake blood.

Metallic sheets are bolted to this bathroom wall in lieu of mirrors, which patients could use as a weapon.

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212 thoughts on “Inside Creedmoor State Hospital’s Building 25”

Incredible photos, but I hope the photographer wore a respirator or at least a dust mask while inside this joint. Histplasmosis is…er…nothing to sneeze at! The squatter is most likely dead man walking!

Really Dandy? You must be an expert on what exists and what doesn’t! You are in denial!! Try spending a few hours in some of these places that are haunted..You tell me then..You would be running! And yes im an investigator who was a skeptic until I had an experience of my own!

See that’s the thing though; don’t misunderstand me I agree completely. Things in the past were horrible and the treatment the mentally ill received in far too many places was beyond deplorable. It sickens me to read about it and to think of someone already lost and ill, maybe only just deeply depressed, maybe only having a disease or condition easily reversed or cured or kept in check today…such people forced to endure inhuman drugging and isolation and electroshock, or worse mind-robbing surgery. HOWEVER: it was good people that kept digging away at this unholy system, pulling down the blackout curtains so to speak and letting in the sunlight of public examination and government investigation and oversight that led to monumental changes; sadly slow to unfold changes at times but nevertheless change and because of people who wouldn’t just give up and go away things are far far better today. We just cannot ever let our guard down again in making sure some of the most vulnerable citizens among us are properly cared for and treated with dignity.

I’m so heart broken. My father uncle had mental illness in the 1930s. All he remember as a young man , his uncle Benjamin was sent to Creedmoore. Back in those days, black ppl was beyond poor and could not afford ANYTHING. He said no one ever spoke of his uncle ever again. To think of the cruelty I’m sure he faced, bring tears to my heart and eyes. I would love to see any records of patients back then. I’m sure a picture was attached to files. Of course I’m sure records were distorted or destroyed. Way too many years. So so sad.

My mother had me sent here from January 1963 until June 1963 in the Adolescent Unit Bldg . 39 – Ward 11 . It was real dangerous place with some of the craziest teenage boys . I was severely beaten up in there and finally got out in June 1963 . I never forgave my mother for causing me to be in such a hell hole . It’s been 52 years now but I’ll always remember the the torture I went through in that snake pit .

What did you do to deserve to be sent there must be a reason your mother made the decision when you can admitted to your part in the situation maybe you can find forgiveness for your mother its never a easy decision for any parent to seek help for an out of control child who maybe a danger to themselves and others especially to third own mom speaking from a mother point of view

Can You tell me how to get access to this building. I want to explore it. Also I have been to that campus before looking for building 25 and I thought I found it. but In fact it was building 70. So please tell me how I can get in building 25. I already have everything I need to enter the building. like gloves. boots. and masks.

I agree, I saw many objects, furniture etc. that could be recycled and returned to use in one way or the other. In these times of budget cutbacks and shortfalls you would htink that ever state would be scraping every cent out of abandoned properties like this. Even if it was done on a contract basis it would still generate much needed funding and not waste all the money spent building and equipping these facilities.

I had two uncles who spent approximately 15 years each there. They were deaf and could not speak, but nothing else about them would have caused they to die one week or each other except an unfortunate incident of beating, etc. The were only I there 40’s. They were there from 1946 to approximately 1960.

I don’t think they were in building 25, but one of those buildings. My mother and I visited them once a month via a train from New Jersey….. Very sad…….

I am so sorry for your uncles. I had a grandmother who lived there but I do not know the number of her building. I was a very small child when my Dad used to get her every other weekend. I remember seeing her with burn marks on either side of her head. Mom said it was from the shock treatment. She was a wonderful woman and I wish the family was more aware of how things were in there. Her mental illness made it impossible to live with us. I remember her screaming and crying and then the ambulance coming to take her away. Mom would take us for a walk until the ambulance was gone.

Places like Creedmoor absolutely captivate me; the thought of how much emotion was expended within the walls of places like this. I can’t help but feel old mental institutions, sanitariums, hospitals, whatever they were called, as well as prisons, vibrate with the deep emotions, the sorrows and fears and terrors, the passions of wounded people caught up by society and locked deep in their walls, away from sunlight and positive emotion, how these old places retain something of what passed before within their corridors and rooms. A kind of negative energy, even a haunting of sorts if you will. I can spend hours just walking the halls, pausing in the small closed claustrophobic places, wondering what happened a century before, right where I now stood…I hate the thought of them being torn down, with nothing left but an empty lot littered with pieces of brick, mortar and plaster the only indication something once stood on that site. But reading of someone’s relatives, of real people with real names, with someone who can testify right here on the internet that this was a REAL place that caused real pain among their blood relations; reading that makes me feel an outsider with no right to wish them held onto.

How horrendous for your uncles, being left in such a place. One can only hope that they had each other as comfort. Unable to speak or hear, it must’ve been insanity for them. Many people who had simple handicaps such as deafness and muteness were dumped in places like this, as many families could not spare the expense of personally caring for them.

I was the secretary in Building M in 1964 for Dr. Pike and two other psychiatrists. It was my first job after graduating from high school in Pennsy. I only stayed there a year; just to get the experience I needed to get another job. Eventually, I left NY to return to Pennsy. I sometimes think about some of the patients. I remember they asked me to teach a class to some young people who weren’t mentally ill. They got in trouble in one way or another and were put in with the psychotic patients. How sad.

My Grandmother Violet Tomchik was there as a patient for many, many years. Sometimes she would stay with us on weekends. Grandma said that some of the staff should have been the patients. It was a very sad part of her life.

the patients were not cared for in the manner in which they should. I do not live in NYC, but I do live in Michigan and the stories of the state homes are all the same. Abuse and neglect more than you can imagine. People put in a room for hours on end defecating and urinating on themselves. They had to fight for food, because patients would steal. They really were the worst of conditions imaginable. It is sad to think that those humans were being treated as animals essentially.

Hi Patrick,
I am interested in your grandmother’s stories. Is there anyway to share them, please? My name is Liz, I am also a psychiatric nurse and love history.
Thanks so much for your consideration.
Liz

Patrick,
I hope you will help your GrandMom write her memories down or at least record them on a recorder before the memories are lost. These things need to be documented & written about. I hope you will write a book about this place one day.

Patrick: I worked in Building M. I’m curious about Building 25. I don’t remember hearing about it when i worked there. Building M had a head nurse who ran a tight ship. It was a little scary; after all, I was only 18 years old but it wasn’t horrible or I wouldn’t have lasted even one year. I was glad to find a normal job though.

so you believe that in basically UNSUPERVIZED group homes the menally ill,autistics etc are better off ?
THINK AGAIN.
they’re in a smaller setting and that’s about ALL.
sure there are great groups managing their homes and there’s waiting lists YEARS long and if one has a chroniclly ill
unstable family member that winds up via THE COURTS into a hospital 1st THEN transferred to whatever is available.you’d understand immediately that having them in a psych facility ,where a nursing supervisor walked those halls with that clipboard at a minimum of three times a day–you’d have more confidence THERE.
Slamming the doors shut on these facilities did not alleviate anything and has led to the FACTS on less treatment,less availability of “beds” for those needing IMMEDIATE intensive treatment and observations and more set backs for the ill.

as for crimes on that campus ?
crime continues in secluded areas and within group homes the same.

Maggie,
I hope you can help your Mom write a book about these things, at least get a recorder and have her talk about it. You will have it as part of your family history & maybe you could write about it yourself one day. It might help better the world we live in.

I worked in the children’s building # 39, but I had not visited many other buildings on the grounds; I was astonished to see this one. It was very frightening to view, and certainly not anything like the children’s side.

IT’S LOCATED ON HILLSIDE AVE. (NORTH SIDE) A FEW BLOCKS WEST OF THE CROSS ISLAND PARKWAY, AND EAST OF WINCHESTER BLVD. PASSED IT EVERY DAY ON MY WAY TO MVB HIGH SCHOOL (9/1965 THROUGH 6/1969) A FEW BLOCKS WEST OF IT.

Thank God you got out of there alive. I had two uncles (deaf) that spent most of their lives at Creedmore.
Not sure what building. We would visit them once a month until we were notified that they died. They were healthy except for being deaf and not able to speak – they lived there from approximately 1946 to their death around 1960. I truly believe they met an unfortunate incident – they died one week from each other.

I tried to get some information regarding a death certificate or where they could be buried. My mother never shared any of this with me.

Surita, you don’t seem to understand that that was a VERY different time. There was no such thing as “advocating”. In most cases, once someone entered a psychiatric facility, they remained there until they died.

Hi Mary Ann,
I’m so sorry you had to spend time in a hospital. I am a psychiatric nurse, mental health client, and historian. If you would be willing to share, I am interested in learning about your experience in this hospital. I know this is a strange request and apologize if this is uncomfortable or upsetting.
Thank you for your consideration,
Liz Wood, RN

i do not want my name use i live in manhattan i was there 1960 to 1964 horror is the name for that place call me robert middle name call me at 13474303496 and take no pictures of me i am sure you understand

Surita and Sara, The times weren’t so different, after all. Back then, not many families were able to or wanted to take a mentally ill family member into the family home. Nothing has changed, really. How many families nowadays would take a mental ill patient into the home? Not many…barely any. What has changed is that the patients are out on the streets instead of inside an institution.

Hey, lets not get technical. Poop is poop. This must have been a horrible place to be confined in. I can not imagine how one human being can treat another human being in this manner. I hope those that suffered are in a better place. God will take care of the rest. May they all rest in peace. There were are probably are still places like this in my state, further south.

I am interested in knowing which hospital this is. I have been in Psychiatric hospitals in California, and the old Northampton State Hospital; the conditions here are better than I have seen. Although much bad has happened in these hospitals, I am told by many former patients that some good was also done.

The irony is that life continued (the birds) where many would find only desolation and abandonment. Mama Nature seems to continue even where were leave both memory and history behind. And it is in this abandonment that the photography captures the art even in decay. Composition melds with decomposition.

Looking at these pictures makes me wonder why these buildings are still standing? I suppose they are not only full of bird poo, but lead paint and asbestos too. Clean-up costs would be out of this world. I sure in the hell wouldn’t want to live anywhere near any of these buildings. Erie photo’s for sure. I almost expected to see McMurphy and the Chief come running out of one of the rooms chased by Nurse Ratched (One Flew Over the CooCoo’s Nest).

This is nothing but Disrespect for all of the patients involved. How could you Will Ellis? There is absolutely no need to put mental illness in the same sentence as pigeon excrement. No relative sense. It is only an abandoned building that was neglected so a whole lot of pigeons flew in and lived there. Pigeons shit. Pigeons shit in abandoned buildings a lot. Will Ellis, what is your reason for using pigeon shit as a means for, “shock value” as to catch peoples eye so they look at your photos. Pigeon shit occurs in abandon buildings. Why do you feel the need, or at least, why have you taken pictures of a center, that is now an abandoned building and wish to bank off of the fact that it was once an institution for the ill? Pigeons shit Will, why wouldn’t they?

Suzanne Marie O’Donnell, HERE IS YOUR SIGN YOU JUST DON’T GET IT DO YOU.. Go back and read the comments about, there is life after death. There was a movie, broadway play, etc. about this PHENOMENON! IT IS CALLED THE CIRCLE OF LIFE. And it is pigeon poop, not sh%@. Clean up your language, children may be reading this.
Are you afraid of the truth?? Did you work there??? Were you confined there for some reason?????
Wake up and smell the roses lady. It happened and should not be ignored. If we don’t deal with the past and try and make a change, history will repeat itself. Look what happened in the concentration camps!!!
Think you for maybe listening to reason.

There is a woman ghost in the chair photo. If you save the chair photo to on your computer, then open up Microsoft Office, click on Edit picture tab, Choose color (slide to red and play around with the saturation and amount), then go to back to Edit picture tab and select Brightness and play around with that, you will see on the right of the right chair, a woman sideways, the front woman is very defined and has her hair up in a bun and right hand on the chair arm. I am not sure if there is another woman behind her and there might be someone in the right chair but it could just be the way fabric and stuff falls, I think that is called natural matrixing. I will not post the pic because it might be copyrighted and I only do this for fun and for my own “ghost hunting” through pics.

A real life “Night of the Living Dead” photo-encounter. . . why has this hellhole being left to simply stagnate, rust and decay? Disgusting, get rid of it why don’t ya! Obviously this building holds nothing but horrifying memories of society’s untouchables and events from its past. . . these photos have (no doubt) captured within them images of that terrible fact. Nearly too disturbing for words!!!!

Thanks for sharing. As for closing the institutions, yes there was abuse and neglect. But now the would be patients are still abused an neglected, but now we all call them homeless and walk by them with disregard and disdain. But that is OK because they are on the street and not in an institution?

If I had been born 40 years prior to my birth in 1986 I would have probably ended up at a place like this. I am mildly Autistic and have Bipolar Disorder with psychotic features. I also suffer from PTSD due to an abusive first marriage. Today with the medications we have I am able to live a normal life. I work as a school bus driver and volunteer with the local fire company. In 3 months I am going to marry a man who is career Air Force. I have a pretty normal life. I am actually going to school this winter to become an EMT.

This history needs to be documented because this should NEVER happen again.

Tragically, those days are not entirely behind us. Mental illness still has such a strong hold over so many and the mentally ill homeless are in as bad, or worse, situation than the institutionalized mentally ill were in. Still many stigmas to break and research to be done.

The place looks incredible! It is a place I will like to visit in the morning with a space suit! I hope that the photographer was careful when taking the pictures; I cannot imagine how many disease are there!

I am writing to you to thank you for this revealing article, but to also let you know that I was there. I experienced and witnessed the horrors of this place first hand, being that I was at the time considered a Ward Of The State, simply by continueing to
run away from an abusive foster home, I was placed in this hell hole. I remember the incidences, the people who ran the ward , who by the way were the crazy ones. If you are interested in hearing some of the truths regarding this place of torture, get in contact with me…..the saddest part about the history of this place,,,,,,,no one was ever convicted for thier abuses. I was there in 1974/1975 and the memories have the occasional tendancy to haunt my dreams. Sincerely, jlopez

The beatings,,,,I remember the beatings. I also remember the names of my abusers. The very first evening that I. arrived there, I refused to remove my clothes in front of all the girls peeking into the room at the new arrival. Mrs. White was her name…she was in charge of the night shift…..When I refused to remove my clothes, she immediately jumped on top of my chest and proceeded to strangle me. I have never felt that kind of pressure around my neck before, she nearly killed me, yet she released her hands from me, and I chokenly gasped for air……this was night one, of my hellish stay. Along with that strangulation came whippings from key chain larriottes, cold buckets of water to get us out of bed in the morning, our matresses flipped while still in them, being kicked, stomped, slapped, raped,verbally abused, locked up for days, drugged, quarter tied……and yes,,,,,I witnessed a possible death of my friend Caroline….we had windows that were sectioned into smaller window panes. After being picked on for so long, kicked and stomped on earlier by the attendant going by the name “Moochie” , and then more abuse later on that day, Caroline bashed her hands through about six of those window panes……I suddenly heard what sounded like a punctured tire , and then the blood flew out of her arm like a fountain into the air.I grabbed her arm , in order to apply pressure….. as she continued to scream out how she couldnt take it anymore. I as well screamed out for help , but the attendant, I think was Mrs White, ignored me. She was watching tv in the day room with us,. She eventually strolled over, as I cried out to hurry up, she cut her main vein. They eventually took Caroline into the main office, I just cried, as I am weeping now…..for it is my
first time sharing these details. THEY KEPT CAROLINE IN THAT OFFICE FOR TOO LONG!!!! I always wondered what happened to my friend Caroline,,,,, I heard the next day that she had lost nearly all her blood. People dont realize, that were not all mental,,, we were just kids placed in a facility that did
not match our needs. We were thrown from the boiler into the fryer. I for one am a survivor, well, and living a good and wholesome life….God is good, Sincerely, Jlopez

J Lopez – I am very sorry for all that you have gone through. I am a psychotherapist in California and understand that what you have experienced as a patent there must have left a serious lifelong mark. Also by seeing these photos it may have brought many of your experiences back, just as the ones you mentioned in your writings above. I hope you have had the opportunity to work through any issues you have with a therapist and if not I want you to feel free to get in contact with me. I would also be happy to help you find a therapist local to you that may offer to see you at no cost. Please let me know how I can offer you assistance. This should have never happened. This is just an offer. If you don’t find the need I understand. I can be reached at LizMooreBirch@ msn.com.

It is easy to let our minds be carried away into imagination, but really these photographs tell a terribly sad story of a piece of life on this earth. My great-aunt was institutionalized at Creedmoor from about 1919 until the mid-1950’s – so most of her adult life. My mother and sisters described my great-aunt, Bertha Goldman, as a gentle, kindly woman who just seemed very sad. The only “scary” thing about Creedmoor back then was how mistreated most patients were…the horrible stigma of mental illness must end.

anyone remember hanging out in the parking lot ? rows of cars,music blasting,making-out getting high, looking up at that hospital and wondering what was going on in their? the lot was in the woods a little below the place, people came from all over….shh[drugs everywhere] oh such good times their hanging out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! in a passed lifetime of experiences!!!!!!! love the sight,,from new jersery

There is a huge complex of abandoned buildings on hundreds of acres that made up the state mental hospital in the heart of Columbia, SC. This place was originally opened, as I understand it, in the 19th century. Last I heard the land these buildings sit on was under contract to be purchased for urban housing, apartments or condos or whatever. Some of the buildings are to be left intact as they are historical. I am absolutely itching to go there and explore this campus but I don’t know what to expect. I hear the area is off limits and is supposedly patrolled by the police although I doubt they worry to much about urban explorers as long as they don’t make themselves too obvious. Anyone out there know anything about this place from experience?

I guess I’m in the minority, but I hate to see buildings such as these torn down. They are a part of history, be that history good or bad. Too many people want to ignore the bad and pretend the world is made up of sunshine and butterflies.

Well if you are then I’m right there with you. I absolutely hate it when these places get bulldozed. I guess I can understand it sometimes; land can be valuable and life goes on but with some of these places, the ones with historical value that are able to tell a story we should do all we can to preserve them for the future. We in America are especially great about destroying places of great value. I think of some of the buildings in Virginia that are related to great Civil War battles that are an island of history in the middle of traffic lights, gas stations, Wal Marts and assorted tacky, dirty businesses. We are too quick to destroy our roots and our heritage in this country.

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You say the last big scandle in the building was in 1984? Then you say 40 years of bird shit? Which one is it? Doubt they let birds take over a whole floor for ten years before it was shut down? Ive broken in the building myself. And also north brother island. Didnt know I could of asked permission

The scene opens
Down a long hall
Dark green walls
Under a bare bulb
Dead men shuffle
On the left, a shaky table
Lucky Strikes, a portable radio
The attendant bends
Drops his head
Between her legs
She crosses over

In this asylum
Light falls on the father
Bone sorrow
Mixing invisibles
Mumbling metaphysicals
She waits, as if back stage
While he lectures
To an empty room

The attendant shouts, “pop
Say hello to your daughter”

Agony clocks in
Between the bringing and
Taking him back
To the den
With the other dead men
And all those details
Pea soup nails
The jingle
The way a steel door locks
The way the scene opens
Down a long hall
Dark green walls
Under a bare bulb
Dead men shuffle

We deplore what happened in the asylums but now that places like this are closed and the patients are on medications instead. Many of them end up on the streets now instead of in hospitals. There must be some state of care in between the depravity of the hospital depicted here and the state of denial and lack of real care. What that in-between state might be I have no idea. But surely someone can work out a better system.

Yes, you are correct. This problem has been going on for the past 30 years and the politicians continue to ignore the issue, even though, tragedies caused by untreated mentally ill people are on the increase today.
.

A very bad place. It all started with the Germans who durring WWII killed hundreds of thousands of mentally sick people as a part of their politics of cleaning the new world out of the sick, the weak etc. We have such an abandoned psychiatric hospital in Owinska in Poland with a dramatic history. There were 1100 patients there in 1939 that were killed on the premises including mentally disturbed children that were killed on 11 Nov 1939 with the use of gas in the hospital;basements and burried in surronding woods. If you want to see whats left of it today http://www.urb-ex.pl/galeria-2007_11_10_Owinska. Best regards from Poland.for all of you and Will of course for wonderfull ( and usually sad) job.

I understand that child welfare agencies assigned children and teenagers to Creedmore simply because they could not find foster homes for them. The children could not refuse to go snd had to remain there until they turned twenty-one. Is this true?

Hi Peggy, So much of Creedmoor’s history has been erased. In all my years of searchings I have come to believe that the admins of Creedmoor are exceedingly opposed to allowing people to know much about the history of the place. Just try to find out about a relative who was a resident of C-moor – you won’t get very far. “Records have been lost” and such…I’ve never believed it. I suppose the current C-moor admins do not want to risk anyone bringing a lawsuit against the institution…surely the “mystery of Creedmoor’s history” has to do with someone(s) protecting financial assets. I believe the C-moor administration would like to sever C-moor from certain realities that occurred in the institution prior to 1980 or so. As for your question, I have not read or heard anything specifically about foster children being assigned to Creedmoor, but it would not surprise me at all. Especially if a child had behavioral issues or was in any way impaired it seems highly likely that Creedmoor would have been the perfect dumping-ground for such children.

I was one of those foster children assigned to Creedmore. And yes, I still can recall quite a bit. I was not suffering from any mental illness, I did have some behavioral problems regarding running away from my abusive foster parents, so there is where I renained locked up and torturted for close to two years. Read my commentary above…I am J Lopez

I have read your so sad story, J Lopez. It is as I suspected…foster or troubled kids being dumped. It’s happening today, only the kids are left to live on our streets. Either way, we are neglecting too many of our children for too long.

I was just in one of the other buildings in July. There are medical files and records littered all over the hospital rooms! Not saying all are there but literally there was thousands littering the floors. They just left them there! I found a Binder still full and in perfect condition with over 30 patients records from 1932-1962. I do know that over the years they have told people that they don’t have access to them or that they burned in a fire which could be partially true. But I’ve been in the building and can tell you for sure that there are tons of medical records that they just left there with all the other items.

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The memory of Creedmoor was a haunting. I was in elementary school when my mother was committed to this hospital. The experience of losing my mother to mental illness and the feelings of abandonment continue to linger today. She was exposed to electroconvulsive therapy and powerful neuroleptics which caused facial dystonias which were socially embarassing for the family but was served to my mother as a social pariah. The memories of family visits behind tall, chainlink fences, and the ghostly appearances of my mother dressed in hospital whites and caked facial makeup had a chilling effect on our future relationship. She just wasn’t my mother. This was during the 1950’s with the dynamics of the northern migration of Afro-Americans from the south; my parents were from Mississippi. Searing memories of the hospital and her mental illness is a haunting.

Just found out that my husband’s grandfather was in this institution (no way to know which building) from at least 1930 until he died in 1942. Can’t imagine what he went through in that time in our history. So sad. Thanks for sharing these photos.

Wow…this totally struck me on many levels. I spent my teen years living in the shadow of Creedmoor (I’m a Glen Oaks Girl and MVB Class of ’88), spending much time across the street at Alley Pond (aka AP) and being sought out by residents on day passes when i worked at Genovese on the Turnpike. All of us who grew up around it had a curiosity about what its insides looked like and many urban legends were borne of that speculation. My curiosity might have run a bit deeper than that of my friends.

My father resided on that campus. Twice. Once as an adolescent in the late ’50s – early ’60s then again after his discharge from the Air Force during the Vietnam War. This added to the ever present mystery that was my father. I since found out that he was schizophrenic. Today in the 21st century we still know painfully little about mental illness and how it should be treated even though progress was made in relieving its stigma. I cannot imagine what my father and others like him endured during the mid-20th century first with the illness itself then with the shame it carried and finally with the archaic and often cruel treatments imposed upon the mentally ill.

I don’t know what building housed my father when he was there. Looking at the inside of long abandoned building 25 is satisfying a bit of my curiosity. And although it was not in this wretched, filthy condition when it was operational, i can’t help but believe that its present appearance more accurately depicts how it must’ve felt for my father and the others when they resided on the Creedmoor campus.

Let this be a reminder that we should treat all with compassion and humanity. The decay of the past is closer than you think.

I was a nursing student in 1965/6 and had my psychiatric experience at Creedmoor. The students traveled to Creedmoor in the evening and stayed in a “dormitory” which was staffed by former patients. It was a very creepy experience..we had a set of keys we wore on a rope around our waist which got us in and out of dorm rooms and wards. It was so unnerving that we all decided to travel out there early in the morning to avoid staying in the dorm. I have no idea what building we were in but I have sad memories of the two patients I was assigned. One I will call MB was catatonic schizophrenic. .I don’t remember his treatment but I believe he was wrapped in wet sheets for long periods.He just sat and stared with that haunting look and never spoke a word…I was never able to penetrate his lonely world! The second patient a young girl with schizophrenia I call CM I remember with much sadness. She endured Shock treatments and Insulin shock therapy the latter causing a stroke and continuous coma which caused her to be sent to another Hell in Bellevue Hospital where I was required to visit with her, When I finished my rotation she was still there with no improvement. I often think about that young lady and wonder what ever became of her. The pictures of Creedmmoor just brought me back there with a jolt .I remember the big sterile day rooms and all the locked doors and obvious misery there…once I forgot my keys and my instructor told me it was because I really didn’t want to be there. How right she was!! All those pigeon droppings seem like a fitting comment on the world that existed there!

Hi I meet a woman who actually lives there. There a a LOT of people living there. She told me that she wants to move because the police and ambulance are there all day, every day. She also shared that as long as she and the rest of her community takes there medication the function well. VEry Spooky place, where the ambiance is creepy. A lot of the building are abandoned and have foliage growing on them (i was told this is a sign of unsettled souls roaming around) Thank to the writer/photographer sharing these photos.

My Uncle was murdered there in 1980. Joseph Taggart( he had schizophrenia) , my family never received any closure on who killed him. My mom still gets choked up about him. It was big cover up. The coroner lost my uncles organs after his body was exhumed his name was Michael Baden. The witnesses supposedly disappeared including a nurse and other workers. Very disturbing. My poor grandparents died with a broken heart.

You have NO idea AT ALL how DEADLY the airborne pathogens from pigeon droppings can be!!!! There must be FORTY FRICKIN’ YEARS of pigeon droppings in that old building!!!! One could never breathe that air safely wearing a goddamn air-tight SPACE SUIT!!!! Anybody that goes in there will get HORRIBLY sick!!! The place should be sterilized, cemented over, and then later incinerated by a professional Haz-Mat team!!!

Our late mother, who my sister and I cared for at home, moving her in with us when she was 92..died two weeks ago, (nearly 95 years of age) from longtime mixed senile dementia. At peace, comfortably, safely in her clean bed with family surrounding her, on June 1st, 2017. But I still recall: when she was in her mid 40’s, HER mother, our grandma, had a major stroke, and after that required full time custodial care. Medicaid turned our family away, and so, simply for want of a damn bed anyplace else, grandmother, who had never suffered from any mental illness of any sort a day in her life.. ended up at Creedmoor. Drugged with Librium, strapped to a wheelchair, she spent her days semiconscious, keening, wailing and soiling herself. Mother went to visit her and never, ever forgot what she saw, what it smelled like, the staff, how wretchedly her mother was treated. My uncle Frank, who lived in Philadelphia, came and got grandma. They moved her to a nursing home in Penna, where she was cared for and died, about seven years later. Mom would always come home from the hellish interval in Creedmoor in tears, saying, “Promise me you will never put me in a place like that!!” But what was interesting was not only how the mentally ill were brutalized, and treated horrifically, people who did not even BELONG in a mental hospital were as well, shunted off there — there are comments here about someone who had relatives who were in fact deaf, and not even mentally ill at all? As my heart breaks, my stomach also churns, and my mind boggles.

When I was put their as a cold of 7 years old I remember there being bars on every window in that place called Creedmoor. I was also taken to some building were a EEG was performed on me and I remember being terrified when I noticed a werehouse full of body parts in big glass jars most were brains. I was abused horribly in that place I well never forget it.

The other thing I think of is this: back in the day, the police were allowed to round up mentally ill people off the street, then cart them off, against their will, detaining them in what was then politely referred to as “the loony bin”. There, they would, if lucky, be medicated, cleaned up, housed, and maybe even…given some sort of treatment. Many on the right meds would stabilize after several weeks: become even tempered, clear headed, calm, goal-focused and productive.. like any ‘normal’ person. But there was almost no provision for temporary, or bridge housing, where they could live supervised and continue their meds, receive therapy, while they reclaimed their lives.. But instead they were discharged to the street, with nowhere to go. Lacking anyone to monitor them, they’d stop taking their meds, and within two weeks, be wandering the streets, yelling and acting out. This is horrific, heartbreakingly wasteful…yet is often the scenario, to this day. I talk to local law enforcement and they assure me, unless a person with a mental illness pushes someone in front of a bus, there will be no follow up, no intervention, nothing. And, although on the one hand preserving the civil rights of people with mental illness IS quite important, and those rights should be respected.. there are also very few resources in the way of remedies: neighborhood outreach services, temporary housing, walk in clinics (too little, often too late). I do not know what the answer is; Fountain House is in the forefront – has a powerful advocacy and does an excellent job helping people who daily, live with mental illness. There just (in 2018) still isn’t near enough of what people impacted by mental illness dearly need. And what a waste of potential: lives ruined, curtailed so tragically, often simply for want of help at these critical times – just, someone there, to step in, help, guide and mentor…

I’m not sure exactly which day you’re referring to with “back in the day” but the age of rounding up people with mental illness and warehousing them in institutions was mostly before the age of medications to treat said illnesses and most people who went into the institutions never came back out.

Sad to say, I meant THE DAY, which was the late 1960’s (I myself am 70 now), I remember distinctly, the father of a good friend was a young lawyer at the time. While building his practice he did a lot of what was considered serious advocacy in behalf of the mentally ill. Often Dave was criticized and told he was wasting his time. Nevertheless, he was appalled to see the way those people were treated. And he did whatever he could, which in those days (because of the law), was not over-much. Some people, as you note, ‘disappeared’ and were never seen again. Others, whom he tried to help, were medicated in the most basic way – I remember clearly MILLTOWN (Lord help us), and before LIBREX..pure LIBRIUM. Anyone for a six hour crying jag? Horrific. And to this day, there is not enough help available for people in transition from mental health issues to the proactive management of them, in the most affirmative way. I hate to think of it, but I truly do speak from experience. BTW I’m old enough to have some bad memories – sufficient so as… not to need to invent any more!

OMG I remember miltown,etc! and librium. wow, havent heard that since another lifetime ago. Im about 5 yrs. younger than u r, but I remember what you are talking about. My MIL was in there and I heard all kinds of horror stories from her

Thanks to the “privatization” or more accurately, destruction, of the mental health system in this country, there isn’t enough support or care for any mentally ill, aside from those with great insurance or really deep pockets.

My brother is wandering the streets mumbling about aliens and mind control when he isn’t busy threatening our mother or destroying her house.

As an RN, I’m way too familiar with the treatment the uninsured mentally ill get. They sit in the ER for days, weeks without any kind of treatment, until a bed is found in a facility. Then they might stay 48 to 72 hours and they’re released into the public to start the whole cycle again. It’s crazy.

You are absolutely 100% correct. The “homeless” to a huge extent are people who, due to incapacitating mental illnesses, wander the streets of inner cities many times without access to medication that could allow some to function well enough to support themselves. I’m 60, old enough to remember when mental institutions were closing and very sick people who had no insurance or any family capable of taking care of them or money to pay someone else to were released to the street. This is a horribly cruel thing to do to someone with a loose grip on reality.

I spent 30 years as a live in-super for a brownstone house here on Union Square. During those years I had occasion to call 911 more than once, in response to a mentally ill homeless person in crisis. Often the time it took for the cops to get here was excessive. Cop-speak calls them “EDP’s” (emotionally disturbed persons, ok?) Occasionally, law enforcement never even showed up.When they did however..they were sometimes indifferent, and not especially helpful. Even so far as refusing to take the person into custody, albeit when the person was unstable, confrontational, and desperately in need of being brought to safety. Once I asked the cops sarcastically, “Does the guy have to throw someone in front of a bus for y’all to even take action?” They looked shamefaced, and shrugged. A much publicized case like this about a mentally disturbed woman, who pushed a man off a subway platform; he was killed by a subway train. She ranted that “he looks Muslim.” My point is, it later developed that the woman’s family had pleaded for help/intervention with her as she spun out. Help never came. The question must be asked..if there had been assistance/monitoring available for someone whose illness was clearly worsening – would that incident have happened at all? Never mind treatment options..there is no interest in support, or even watchful medical caring. People with a mental illness are very often ignored, pushed out of ER’s back onto the street, as one commenter noted, or simply shunned. Dreadful.

I was just here on July 3. I did not enter building 25. I am not sure what building number it was. I did have help getting in by some teen boys one whom was currently living there in building 21. But I did enter one of the other abandoned buildings. It was fascinating and very scary at the same time. It was a bit of a chore to be able to get in as they have guards driving around. But I went close to night time so I was successful in my endeavor. I took about 200 pictures. I also found an old Hispital binder that had about 30 patients care records still inside. They were patients from 1932-1962. All have passed I’m sure by now. They have left thousands of medical records all over the floors inside. It was very interesting. I love to Urban Explore.

Hey I just saw this. I mean I have like over 100+ pictures it would take forever to email them plus I mean Im all good with people viewing them but I mean they are my personal pictures so I dont want to just give them to people hope you understand that. Are you a former employee, patient , or have a family member who lived here at some point?

I had a grandma that was in Creedmoor from the late 50s to the early 70s. It was always a hush hush subject, never really got any definitive answers about her. Now reading this Article I can only imagine what she suffered through. It’s kind of heartbreaking. I don’t think many people knew how these people were handled in these hospitals for a long time.